All The Little Drabbles
by potterwatch97
Summary: Various one-shots featuring Peter, Steve, Tony, and various other Avengers. Comic Book elements as well. Fluff, Angst, Sex, and everything you can think of. StevexTony
1. Chapter 1

AN: I just wanted to start by mentioning that these little one-shots are all written because they are prompts from Tumblr so I write them as I receive them. I don't know how long this will be and I don't know what the time between updates will be. MCU characters featuring Comic Book (616) elements. Follows MCU unless stated otherwise (though most of the time that's not important) aaaaaand yeah. Includes characters up through CATWS.

* * *

Steve hated these Stark Tower parties. All suit and tie, fancy dresses, formal affair. He hated how nowadays people put on a face and pretended to be interested in the lives of people. Back in his day people actually cared. Listening to people brag or complain about their rich, boring lives is not something he enjoys.

Plus, it doesn't help when you can't get drunk to help put up with the people around you.

He had come for Tony, of course. All Tony had to do was flash a smile and bat his eyes and he was there. He was the only reason Steve went to these things.

He spotted Tony over by the bar, talking to a tall, well endowed blonde. Tony said something and the woman threw her head back in an obnoxious laugh. She put a hand on his arm and pushed her chest flush against his side.

Before Steve knew what he was doing he was walking across the dance floor towards the pair. He stood back for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Oh, hey Steve," Tony smiled as he turned.

"Hello, _honey_," Steve looked pointedly at Tony. "Who's your friend?"

Tony stared for a moment before he looked to the woman still pressed next to him. He regarded her for a moment before laughing a little.

"Oh, her," Tony said with a chuckle. "This is just an old… friend. You know, my main squeeze from way back." He laughed again. "Cassandra, Steve. Steve, Cassandra."

Cassandra stuck out her hand gracefully. "Bonsoir, Steve," she said with a heavy French accent. She turned to Tony. "I was simply a friend? Why, Tony, no need to be so modest. He would call me when he wanted a… how do you say it…."

"Fondue," Tony laughed out loud. He was a little tipsy. "We used to… get fondue."

Steve's eyes flashed momentarily. "Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, ma'am, but I think I'm going to go dance with _my boyfriend_ now."

Cassandra stuck her lip out in pout as Steve pulled Tony to the dance floor, Tony following with a goofy smile.

The two of them slow danced for a moment, Steve stiff as a board, before Tony finally spoke up.

"You know… if you didn't want me to talk to her you just had to say so."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on Captain Subtle as a Gun," Tony drawled with a smirk, "You were totally _jealous_."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The tips of Steve's ears began to turn red. His face was flushed.

"Whatever you say, Cap."

They kept dancing for the next couple songs. Eventually Steve relaxed enough and put his arms around Tony's waist while Tony's went around his neck. Tony rested his head on Steve's chest for a while before he looked back up at his lover with shining eyes.

"I love you."

Steve smiled, eyes filled with compassion. "I love you, too."

Maybe these parties weren't so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

"Alright champ, you got your notebook?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Folder?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Steve, you've already done this twice-"

"Is your jacket in your book-bag?"

"Yes, Papa…."

"Steve, hun, he's going to be la-"

"Lunch box?"

"Yes, Papa!"

"Steve, it's his first day of school, he's not backpacking through Europe, come on."

It was Peter's first day of kindergarten and Steve may or may not have been a little nervous.

He may or may not actually be more nervous than Peter.

Tony was having no issue of course. He had been through this once with Peter already before, when he was two. Steve, Natasha, and Clint had been on a SHIELD mission at the time, and Bruce was with Thor visiting Jane in New Mexico. Pepper had told Tony that there were some meetings that he had to attend for Stark Industries, so she had found an expensive and heavily protected daycare and told him to leave Peter there. It was only for a few hours after all.

Tony had one foot out the door before the kid was screaming bloody murder.

Peter was there, in the arms of one of the day care workers, reaching for Tony. He was screaming out "Dada, don't weave me," and "Don't you wuv me, Dada?" Honestly, it had gone straight to his arc reactor. But Tony said he was adamant, and told Peter that for today he had to be a big boy, and that Happy would pick him up and bring him home in a few hours.

Of course, Steve had had to listen to Pepper complain later about Tony being distracted through all the meetings that day by an adorable, giggling toddler.

But Peter was almost five years old now, and it was time for him to 'put on his big boy pants' and go to school like everyone else.

When Steve and Peter arrived at the private school, Peter is all kinds of excited. Standing with his Iron Man backpack and matching lunch box, wearing his purple "HULK SMASH" shirt. He couldn't wait to meet his new teacher, make new friends, and do everything kindergartners did.

When they walked into the classroom, Peter's teacher, Mrs. Potter, introduced herself and sent Peter to his seat. Immediately Peter introduced himself to a boy Steve heard was named Harry. They were laughing already.

Steve said goodbye to the teacher and that he'd be back to pick Peter up at two. He was halfway down the hall when he heard-

"Papa!"

Steve turned to see Peter, shining eyes, running toward him with arms wide open. He jumped up to Steve and he held him as he calmed himself.

"I love you, Papa. You'll pick me up, right?" There was a prickle of fear in his eyes.

"Of course I will," Steve smiled, stroking Peter's hair. "I'll be right back here at two to get you."

Peter nodded and hugged Steve again before going back to his classroom. He turned and waved once more, and then was gone.

Steve smiled as he turned away. His Pete was growing up and moving up in the world, doing new things. And Steve just had to let it happen and hope for the best. It was nice to know that he was still needed though.

Yeah, Peter would be alright.


	3. Chapter 3

"Come to bed, Tony."

Tony finished washing his face in the bathroom and felt around for the towel. After drying is face, he walked slowly to the dresser until his hand touched the top drawer, and reached in for his pajamas.

"I'm coming, don't rush me," Tony smiled softly.

Steve watched as his lover slowly went through the motions of their nightly routine. "You've gotten really used to this, you know. I'm really proud of you."

"Yes, well," Tony grimaced as he pulled on his wife-beater. "Been blind for nearly two years with no chance of recovery. Gotta get used to it eventually."

Not long after the Battle of New York, the Avengers had been called out again, a few short weeks later. There was a new threat, another alien invasion from a race called the Kree. They got what help they could from their new ally, Captain Marvel, and Carol Danvers, Agent of SWORD, who was now a fully functional member of the Avengers.

There had been an attack on the Avengers Mansion, and Tony, Bruce, and Clint had been the only ones home at the time. The Kree managed to take down all mansion defenses and power-grids, leaving Tony suit-less and vulnerable. He had never stood a chance.

By the time the rest of the Avengers and Mar-Vell had arrived, it was too late. Hawkeye was down with nearly lethal injuries, the Hulk was running angrily around destroying an already crumbling house in anger, and trying to protect an unconscious Tony lying in a pool of blood on the floor. It had been too hard a blow to the head, some severe optic nerve damage, and he was left completely without sight. That had been nearly two and a half years ago.

In the end, Tony's injuries had been what caused him and Steve to grow so close together. Surprisingly, after his injury, Tony had become more dependent upon Steve than anyone else, which Steve was perfectly fine with. He would help him learn to adjust, learn to read Braille, how to use a walking stick when in public, learn where everything was in the mansion and use it to his advantage. He had even helped Tony to figure out how to keep up his engineering without sight. Steve also helped him to learn to use his senses to his advantage in a fight without seeing. This way, using Jarvis and the suit, he could still be an Avenger.

Tony figured if Matt Murdock could do it, why not him?

After helping Steve get over his guilt of not being at the mansion when the team had needed him so badly, and Tony's readjustment, they were together, and have been ever since.

"That's not true," Steve said quietly. "You know that Bruce, Hank, and Reed are all trying to find a way to-"

"Exactly, Steve, _trying_." Tony finished dressing with a grunt and padded over to sit on the edge of the bed. "Bruce is a gamma radiation specialist, as he keeps reminding us; he's not 'that kind of doctor.'" Tony fluffed his pillow a little violently. "Pym is a damn bio-something- I don't know, he plays with bugs. And Reed… with Sue and Franklin, he just doesn't have much time."

"Tony, I-"

"Look, Cap, we've done this before," Tony turned his eyes towards Steve's voice. "You heard what the doctors said. Permanent. And it's been pretty permanent for the last two and a half years, so I think this is here to stay."

"I know, I just… I don't know. I know it still bothers you sometimes and I can't help, but I want to help you…."

Tony held is gaze slightly to the left of Steve's face, frowning slightly.

"Steve," he smiled suddenly. "I can feel your depression from over here. Stop it. Come here," Tony patted the bed space next to him. "I wanna look at you."

Steve looked up and smiled at Tony from the other side of the bed. He crawled over and knelt directly in front of him, grabbed his hands and pulled them to his face.

Steve had always marveled at how Tony could use his hands to see things so vividly. Not that it was any surprise really, he was a genius engineer after all, he had gifted hands. But on days when Tony was sad or frustrated, he would always go to Steve and 'look' at him, see his face, and feel better.

Tony ran his hands over Steve's handsome, chiseled face. The slightly pointed nose, the full, soft lips, gently around his jaw line, and back up to his eyes. When he did this, he could still see Steve's face perfectly in his mind, the only image he could still see clearly without dreaming.

Tony placed his hands on either side of Steve's face and looked him dead in the eye.

"I love you."

It was amazing that Tony could do that, too. Like it was second nature. Like there was a bond between himself and Tony that they connected through, that Tony could somehow see through, to always be able to look Steve in the eye and say, 'I love you.' Without even knowing where Steve was at in the room. It made him feel very happy inside.

"I love you, too." Tony smiled, the corners of his cloudy brown eyes crinkling.

"Get some sleep," Tony said as he rolled over. "I'll see you in the morning."

And every morning after that.


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh my god, who turned on the sun_, was Tony's first thought waking up that morning. His second thought of course was how the hell did I get here, I was doing a thing in the lab with Bruce-

That's when he noticed the extremely muscular arm around his waist.

Oh. Steve.

He would be upset because god dammit he didn't mean to fall asleep, when did Steve even carry him up here, but then again it wasn't every day that he got to lay in bed in the mornings with Steve. Especially ever since they put Peter in his "big-boy bed" and he could now get out of bed without them.

He decided to just lie down and snuggle up into Steve and let him spoon him and hell-_lo_ someone's a little excited this morning.

Okay, yeah, he knew morning wood was a thing. That didn't stop the fact that Steve's morning wood is basically like some other guys full on boner, I mean super enhanced human perfection, right? Of course he wasn't going to complain, when they said the serum enhanced everything they meant _everything_ which was great for Tony because he loved feeling that man moving inside him, hitting all the right places-

Peter would be asleep for a while… right?

"Steve," Tony whispered. "Steeeeeeve."

Steve groaned and rolled over, elbowing Tony in the chest in the process.

"Ow," Tony rubbed his pec, "you little… it's a good thing you're hot, damn it."

Steve snorted.

"Steeeeeeve. What time does Peter usually wake up on Sundays?"

"Mmmm… like 8 o'clock, so enjoy it."

"You wanna do it?"

"What?" Steve rolled over, much more awake now apparently. The little shit.

"Let's have like a quicky. Please, I'm so horny right now and we haven't had sex in like 6 days."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Six days. Really?"

"Six days, eight hours, and thirty six minutes if you want to get specific, I mean-"

"You've been counting down the time since the last time we had sex?" Steve asked incredulously. "You're incorrigible."

Tony smirked, "Yeah, you're saying that but I think your dick agrees with me. Look at it, it's like standing at attention and everything. Its parade resting it's so patient, I swear your dick is like awaiting orders right now-"

"Shut the hell up and come here." Steve climbed on top and Tony and settled between his legs, grinding against Tony just enough to get just the sound out of him that he wanted.

"Oh my god, I've been waiting so long-"

Steve quickly kissed him to shut him up, hard and dirty, teeth clashing, tongues down each other's throats. Hands were roaming everywhere and Steve groaned into Tony's mouth when he felt his hand slip down the front of his boxers.

"Hey, when I said quicky, I meant it. It's like quarter till eight, budge over."

Hands in each other pants getting each other off, hands jerking hard and fast, Steve got as far "God, _fuck, more_ Tony…" when they heard it.

"Daddy, why you hurtin' Papa!?"

They jumped apart so fast Tony was pretty sure he gave himself whiplash. Steve was sputtering on the bed, bunching up the covers over his crotch, turning redder than a fire truck and looking like he would like nothing more than to just drop dead right there. Tony, ears red and slightly embarrassed, it was just a hand job, and least he hadn't walked in when they were actually doing it. Better defuse the situation before Steve combusts spontaneously.

"I wasn't hurting him, Petey-bear, we were… uh," He looked over at Steve for help but all he got was a head shake with Steve's face in his hands. _I didn't know humans could turn _that_ red._

"Wrestling!" Tony shouted, suddenly struck by stupid genius. He remembered Rhodey telling him about this time he walked in on his parents doing it, like _going to town_ doing it, and them telling him they were "wrestling." Of course once he was old enough to know what was going on he sent them his therapy bill. "Daddy and Papa were just wrestling, you know? Practicing in case someone ever comes in and, um, tries to get us when we're asleep!"

Peter's got bigger and his bottom lip trembled. "People are gonna get you in your sleep?!"

"They won't now cuz we practiced that, right Steve?" Silence. "Right, okay, so how about you go wake Uncle Bird-Brain from his nest so he can make you some pancakes and Daddy and Papa will be out in a sec, ok?"

Peter looked at them suspiciously, but nodded anyway and walked away, his Hulk plushy dragging on the ground behind him.

Very awkward silence. Like wow, awkward as fuck.

"Dear lord, kill me now…" Steve muttered.

Tony rolled his eyes before glaring at the ceiling. "A little warning next time, J?"

"_I apologize, sir,_" JARVIS said, sounding amused and not sorry at all. "_The two of you seemed rather preoccupied, I did not feel it prudent to intrude._"

"Fuck you, JARVIS."

Tony burst out laughing.


	5. Chapter 5

Peter slammed his door with a screech. He was so angry, he couldn't remember ever being this angry in his life.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. He was their baby. He was their Petey-Bear, they didn't need another baby here. Babies were loud, and messy, and cried all the time, and they didn't even play right! He still remembered trying to play Avengers with Franklin Richards when Uncle Johnny and Aunt Sue came over for a meeting one time. All he did was throw the figures at Peter's head and chew on the ones he liked. There were even bite marks on Ant-Man's helmet to prove it!

It was stupid. It was all stupid. Daddy was stupid, and Papa was stupid, and all his aunts and uncles were stupid for agreeing with them and not him.

It just wasn't fair.

Peter raced over to his closet and pulled out his Hulk backpack from his first day of school last year. He had an Avengers one now, but he still liked this one better. The Hulk was his favorite Avenger. He took his backpack over to his toy box and started pulling out his army men, Avengers figures, and his Hot Rod cars, putting them all in the biggest pocket. He had just started trying to stuff his Hulk plushy in his bag when he heard someone knock on the door behind him.

"No," he shouted. "Go away!"

"Peter? Can I come in, please? I promise I won't let your dads in."

Uncle Bucky. Peter didn't know Uncle Bucky that well. He had just shown up at their house a couple months ago. He had started off being really quiet and always looked a little sad, especially when he looked at Papa, but he was better now. He smiled a lot, and even helped Peter steal cookies when Papa wasn't looking, so he knew he was nice.

"Okay," he said quietly, going to open the door. He saw Uncle Bucky there, smiling, wearing his usual black shirt and jeans with his hair in a ponytail. "But don't let Papa or Daddy in here."

"I think I can do that," Uncle Bucky said, stepping in and shutting the door. He raised an eyebrow when he saw they mess of toys spewed about on Peter's floor, and Peter trying to shove his Hulk plush into an already stuffed up Hulk backpack. "Going somewhere?"

"I'm runnin' away."

Uncle Bucky was frowning when he sat down next to Peter, taking the backpack out of his hands. "Why are you doing that? If you left your Daddy and Papa would be very sad."

Peter just looked down at his Hulk plush, pulling at the fluff coming out of his neck. Aunt Tasha said she'd fix the rip, but she hadn't gotten back from her work yet.

"Pete?"

"They wouldn't be sad," Peter said quietly, looking anywhere except for Bucky. "They would have the new baby to play with, they won't even notice I'm gone."

Uncle Bucky sighed. "Oh, midget you know that's not true."

"Yes it is!" Peter threw his Hulk plush against the wall, turning to look at Uncle Bucky with tears in his eyes. "They won't need me here anymore! They'll have a new baby to play with and take care of! They'll be so busy with her that they won't even notice I'm gone!"

"How can you think that, Peter," Uncle Bucky said calmly. "You know your Daddy loves you more than anything. And your Papa would do anything for you. Besides, if you left, who would blow stuff up with Bruce in the lab? Who would beat Thor at Mario Kart so he doesn't get a big head? And who am I going to sneak cookies to when your Papa is trying to cook dinner, hm?"

"The new baby can do all that," Peter said. He didn't look so sure of himself though.

"She won't be able to Pete. She'll be too little. She'll be a littler midget than you. And since she can't do all those things, that means no one else will be here to do them if you leave. And that would make everyone sad like you feel now. You don't want any of us to feel like you do right now, do you?"

"No," Peter said, a tear slipping down his little cheek.

"Come here, squirt," Uncle Bucky held his arms open to Peter, and Peter sat his lap between his crossed legs. "When I first came here, I used to be jealous too, did you know that?"

"No!" Peter blinked up at his Uncle, surprise on his face. "Why were you jealous?"

"Because of your Daddy. And a little bit because of you. Ever since I could remember it had always just been me and your Papa, you know?"

"Back before Papa crashed the plane to save New York." Peter nodded knowingly.

"Yeah. And even before your Papa became Captain America it was just me and him. And we did everything together. We went to see movies, we talked to pretty girls-" Peter wrinkled his nose- "not the girls with cooties, but the nice girls, the ones that would go dancing with me and your Papa. We even went to Coney Island every couple months so that we could ride the rides and just hang out. And then I didn't see your Papa for a very long time, and when I came back and saw how happy he was with you and your Dad, I felt like I had been replaced as his best friend. Kinda like you feel now, right buddy?"

"Yeah," Peter looked so sad and pathetic when he said it it took everything within Bucky's power not to smile.

"But you didn't lose your best friend. Papa calls you his bestest friend all the time." Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, I realized that after a while. I realized that your Papa didn't treat me any different, and just because he wasn't spending time with only me didn't mean he wasn't still my friend. And then your Daddy and you became my friends too, right?"

"I can be your bestest friend if you want me to, Uncle Bucky."

Bucky laughed. "I'd like that a lot, buddy. But what I'm trying to say is, just because your dads are going to be spending less time with you doesn't mean that you won't ever see them again. They'll still tuck you in at night and drive you to school. They'll still take care of you when you're sick and they'll still watch How It's Made with you every Friday night. There will just be an extra person around for that too. And just because they say they love her doesn't mean they love you any less than they do right now. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I think so." Peter looked at the backpack still sitting open beside Bucky. "So I shouldn't run away?"

"No kiddo, I don't think you should. Besides, if you left who would teach the new baby how to trick your Papa into giving you an extra scoop of ice cream on the weekends?"

"I don't do that!" Peter laughed.

"Liar, I've seen you do it!" Bucky tickled his sides a little and waited for him to calm down. "So no, running away, ok?"

"Ok."

"And just give the new baby a chance when she gets here, Pete, ok? You might like her a lot."

"I guess." Bucky smiled.

"How about we go get Clint and sneak some candy before dinner, huh?" Peter jumped up out of Bucky's lap, pulling on his arm to get him to move faster.

"Yeah, come on! I want to get some M&amp;M's before Uncle Bruce eats them all!"

"Peter, come and meet your new sister."

Peter stood shyly behind Bucky's legs, staring at the pink bundle that his Daddy was sitting down holding. He looked up at Bucky nervously. Bucky nodded, and nudged him forward with a quiet, "go."

Peter walked up to his Daddy and looked at the baby he was holding down for him to see.

"Peter, this is Sarah. She's your little baby sister."

"Why is she bald?" Peter blurted.

Tony laughed at him. "All babies are bald when they're itty bitty, Pete. You were bald when we got you too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You wanna hold her?" Peter nodded.

Steve walked up to Bucky and patted him on the shoulder before pulling him into a hug.

"Thanks, Buck. I don't know what you said to him, but it worked so… thank you."

"No problem," Bucky smiled. "You would've done the same for me."

"Daddy, she's so squishy!"

Everyone laughed.


	6. Chapter 6

"We should get married."

Tony still isn't entirely sure where that one had come from to this day. It had seemed like a fantastic idea at the time, not that he was really regretting it now. The fact that Steve didn't argue was pretty telling on his thoughts of the matter, considering, unlike Tony, he wasn't rip-roaring drunk at the time.

Steve froze, awkward smile stretched across his face. "What?"

"We should get married!" Tony raised his glass as if in toast, almost spilling half of it on the floor. "It's a great idea, probably like the best I've ever had."

"And why exactly should we get married?" Steve's face had turned serious, an eyebrow quirked almost like he was seriously thinking this through. Which, at the time, Tony had not been.

"Because," Tony said suddenly serious, "tomorrow we're going to fight a giant evil fucking robot, who hates my guts probably more than anything in the world, and we all might die. Therefore we should get married."

Steve snorted, though he looked unamused. "I'm still not seeing the logic behind that one, Tony."

Tony looked down at the glass in his hand, suddenly sad looking.

"Look, Cap, I know we don't necessarily get along all the time. But being perfectly honest, you're probably one of my closest friends right now, besides Bruce. And I like you. A lot. Like, a lot, a lot. And if I die tomorrow I want to die knowing I made a move like I wanted to. And if you die and I somehow survive," Tony's breath hitched, eyes going misty as an image of a broken shield and watching light fade from bright blue eyes under dirty, bloody blonde hair.

"And if you die and I survive, I don't want to spend the rest of my life thinking 'what ifs.' I want... I need to know that I didn't let my chance slip away."

When Tony finally looked back up at Steve, his breath caught. This man he had resented and yet admired all his life, right in front of him, blue eyes blown wide and watery, a single tear trail down his face. As he looked at the way Steve's eyebrown furrowed in thought and little worry lines appeared on his forehead, the way his lips curved down when he was thinking hard, his dimples that only appeared when he clenched his jaw or smiled impossibly wide, eyes bluer than any sky or any tropical ocean he'd ever seen, he couldn't think of anyone he wanted to spend the rest of his time with more. What little time either of them might have left.

Steve took a deep, shaking breath. "Well, you make a compelling argument, I'll give you that," he looked around the room, jaw muscles clenched as he tried to keep his composure.

"Tony, I like you a lot too, and I would love to give this, give us a chance, but I don't know if now is the right ti-"

Tony had reached across the table and grabbed Steve's hand, alcohol forgotten. "Please, Steve? If Ultron kills us all tomorrow, I want to go out knowing I at least took a chance. I might love you, I might not, I don't know. But I want to at least try to find out. Before it's too late."

Tears were leaking out of both of their eyes now, and neither of them made any move to wipe them away. Steve took a few deep, calming breaths. Tony never let go of his hand.

"Okay. Let's get married."

Finding someone to marry them wasn't as difficult as they had thought it would be. Fury had dropped by the tower to meet the twins and Vision and had yet to leave, but thankfully they caught him right before he did.

"You want me to do what now!?"

"Come on, Nick," Tony said, still gripping Steve's hand as if his life depended on it. Maybe he was too afraid to let go, but Steve wasn't exactly arguing so he went along with it. "Just do it, you can question us about it later. We just... we need this."

Fury looked down at their interlocked hands, expression unreadable, and sighed.

"Fine, I'll do it. And I won't tell anyone. But if we all make it out of this alive, we are going to have a serious conversation.'

And that was that. They married in Tony's lab, just him, Steve, and Fury. They didn't wear anything special, no vows were exchanged, because what did you promise to the person you're marrying when you both know there's a good chance one or both of you could be dead in twenty-four hours.

No flowers, no fancy words: just three people, a couple of 'I do's and a kiss, a first kiss, and that was that.

They didn't tell anyone until a while after the fight. Everyone was shocked, of course, but no one argued with them. And that was that. Life went on as normal. Or as close to normal can get when Iron Man and Captain America are semi-happily married to each other.

And that night, after the wedding, they went back to Tony's room to find solace in each other. Sure, they probably needed the sleep for the 'fight-to-end-all' tomorrow, but neither of them much cared. Neither of them got much sleep that night, but in the morning when they left to save the world, neither of them regretted it either.


	7. Chapter 7

** .com prompt #123: I needed a drink of water after my shower and I forgot that I opened the blinds to my balcony and you just saw me walk into my kitchen naked.**

**So I changed this one a little and made it less of an 'I forgot' moment and more of a 'I didn't think anyone could see me' moment. Because if you live alone then why shouldn't you be able to walk around naked in your own apartment. (Which I don't because I don't live alone;) It's kinda short, but cute so yay! Enjoy :)**

* * *

Tony was settling into his new apartment nicely. It was cozy, two bedrooms so Rhodey or Pepper could stay the night whenever they were in town. It was a modern loft style with a decent kitchen and a great view.

And by great view, he meant great view of the guy next door.

Because holy amaze-balls, that guy was like the Statue of David, muscles in all the right places, face like an angel, and the brightest blue eyes he'd ever seen on anyone. He _also_ happened to have a really huge… yeah.

And it wasn't Tony's fault that he knew that, it's not like he was stalking the guy. But the man lived in the apartment across the street from him and Tony hadn't really gotten around to buying any drapes yet. His neighbor had, but apparently didn't feel the need to use them, because they were always open, leaving the perfect view of him walking around stark-ass naked in his kitchen at random times every other day. Not that Tony was complaining or anything, but if he ever had to meet the guy, he didn't think a good conversation started would be, "Hey, I'm Tony, I like your kitchen, nice dick."

Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over well.

But, opportunity arose in the form of a huge ass fire in the apartment building to the left of him, causing an immediate evacuation of the buildings in the surrounding areas. He had simply been standing there on the road, surrounded by fire trucks and police cars, waiting for his building to be checked and cleared so he could go in and fucking go back to sleep.

At… seven o'clock in the morning. Oh well. Irrelevant.

"What in the world happened here?"

"Well, running rumor right now is that some chick put muffins in the oven and forgot about them when she went to go fuck her husband," Tony smirked.

Silence.

"I could not make this up, I swear," Tony turned to look at the man next to him and saw that it was none other than the naked Greek god himself, except this time he was (unfortunately) fully clothed in running gear and drenched in sweat.

He had an adorable bemused expression, and Tony could see dimples forming when he smiled, matching the dimples that he had on his-

"I'll never understand some people," naked guy said. He held out his hand. "Steve Rogers, nice to meet you."

"Tony Stark," Tony smiled back. "I just moved into the apartment on the third floor of that building."

Steve's smile faltered a bit, but he kept up a good face like a trooper. "Really? That apartment? I thought they had decided to turn that floor into storage? Termites or something."

Tony struggled not to laugh, "No, no, they took care of that, got it sprayed and everything. So where do you live around here?"

"Oh, um…" he looked up and pointed to the apartment with the balcony on the third floor of the apartment across the street from Tony's. "That one right there."

"Nice," Tony smirked. "Balcony and everything. You got the double door thing going for you?"

"Y-yeah. It's pretty nice. They're pretty big."

_Yeah they are, _Tony thought before he could help it. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Steve decided to try and break the tension.

"So, how do you like living there? I heard those apartments are pretty nice. High end."

Tony turned when he heard the firemen call that his building was clean and it was safe to return. He started walking back inside before turning back to Steve.

"Yeah," Tony said with a wink. "It's got a pretty fantastic view."

He could hear Steve sputtering behind him as he walked back inside.

And the next morning when he went to make coffee before work, Steve's blinds were firmly closed.


	8. Chapter 8

_**AN: TRIGGER WARNINGS: Suicidal/depressing thoughts and self harm. Anon prompt: "ok so i was wondering if u could write a fic where steve and tony's son peter is self harming and tony finds him (run with it!)"**_

_**Well, first up, I have some slight first hand experience with this so this was a little difficult to write. Secondly I had to put myself into a dark mindset to be able to write this so once it is done I'm going to eat chocolate and watch Parks and Recreation because Ben and Leslie are fucking adorable. Also, if parts of this seem like an unorganized word mess, that's what I was aiming for.**_

* * *

_Blonde hair spread out around her, the light shining down on her body at the bottom of the shaft; she looked like an angel, her arms spread out from her body. She was an angel. She looked so peaceful lying there, almost as though she were sleeping._

_Because she was sleeping. She had to be sleeping, or unconscious, because why would she be asleep right now, that's ridiculous. She was unconscious, he had got to her in time, he had caught her, he had _felt _the tug of the webbing when it attached to her body, he _saw_ her grab it. She couldn't be dead, she couldn't be, she was _not _dead._

She looked beautiful even in death. He knew she would. She was always beautiful. God, she was beautiful.

He didn't know what to do anymore. He didn't know who to be anymore. He felt as though a part of his soul had been ripped from his body, and he didn't know how to be human anymore. He didn't know how to be Spider-Man. He didn't know how to be Peter Parker. He didn't know how to be without her.

Watching them lower her into the ground today, surrounded by her family, their friends, and the Avengers, it was the worst thing he'd ever had to endure in his nineteen years of life. Even standing with his Aunt May and his fathers, he couldn't help but feel inadequate. The only ones there who knew the truth were the Avengers. It was his fault, it was all his fault. He had caused this. He was the reason she was dead.

When he went to hug Mrs. Stacey, he tried his hardest not to flinch away from her touch. He was so disgusted with himself. Look at everything he had cost this family, and they didn't even know it. They continued to treat him like loving people, showing they cared about him, when they shouldn't. He was the reason their father and husband was dead. And now he was the reason their sister and daughter was dead. And they didn't know that, they didn't know any of it. They didn't know about the death and destruction that would followed him around. That still follows him around. That would follow him around for the rest of him life.

He couldn't take it anymore.

He got up from his bed and rushed into the bathroom. He was going to throw up, he was going to pass out, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't... he couldn't-

The glint of silver caught his eye as he leaned down to splash water on his face from the sink. He had shaved this morning, and had forgotten to put the razor back into the medicine cabinet.

He stared at the blade for a long time, contemplating on what he was going to do. He remembered the talks at school, from the councilors when Uncle Ben died, and from the teachers during the annual Suicide Awareness Week. _Hurting yourself if never a solution to the pain. If you break a bone, taking medicine with stop the pain, but it won't heal the break. Look for help. Always go to an adult for help._

No one could help him. Why would anyone want to? He tried to help people all the time, and it never worked. Everyone around him died. So who was there that could possibly help him?

"JARVIS," Peter croaked, not taking his eyes from the razor next to his sink. "Security clearance Alpha 3, complete privacy lock code 157. Please."

"Sir," JARVIS' voice rang out hesitantly. "I'm not sure that it the wisest course of action right now. I've been told to keep an eye on you for the rest of the-"

"JARVIS, please," Peter cried. "Complete privacy lock, code 157."

"Yes, sir," JARVIS said quietly after a long pause. Peter heard a quiet hum and knew that meant JARVIS had been shut down in this room. JARVIS couldn't see or hear him, and neither could anyone else.

With trembling hands, he picked up his razor and took out the blade. He stared at it hard for a few moments before he backed up to the wall and slid down it. He was shaking and he could feel it, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Sweat dripped from his brow and down his back as he pressed the blade against his wrist, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and dragged the blade to the side.

The pain was instantaneous, but it was nothing compared to the pain he was feeling inside. Compared to how he had felt these past few days, this was almost a relief, a release, a balm on his nerves. It felt _good._

So he cut. And he cut. A cut for getting her involved, suffering the pain for letting her die: and watching his blood run down his arm, the blood that should've been spilled instead of hers. Because he'll never learn. First Uncle Ben, then Captain Stacey, and now Gwen? How many people were going to die because of him? Aunt May? Dad, Pops? How many more people had to suffer before he realized he didn't know what he was doing? He was no hero. He was a failure. And failures have to take it, and suffer for their mistakes. Which was all Peter was. A mistake.

He didn't know how long he sat there tearing at his arm, but he knew it couldn't have been as long as it felt. Before he knew it his whole forearm was filled with shallow cuts and scratches, blood pooling together and dripping to the floor, leaving a surprisingly sizable puddle.

He didn't notice the banging at the door until someone starting shouting. Someone was banging and shouting and pulling at the doorknob, which was weird because he didn't remember locking it.

"JARVIS!" He heard a strangled shout through the door, "Security clearance Alpha 0, code override 157, _NOW!" _

He heard the hum as the cameras, microphones, and speakers came back on, and he threw the blade down as the bathroom door flew open, smearing the blood on the floor.

"_God, _Peter," he heard his Dad's distraught voice and before he knew what he was doing, he was reaching for his father, grasping for his father, face screwing up in anguish as he realized what he had done.

"_Dad,"_ Peter gasped, reaching out for his fathers arms, getting his blood all over them. "I'm so sorry..."

Tony flung himself onto the ground, not caring that he was getting his son's blood all over his clothes."

"Peter, God, what are you doing, baby boy, no..."

Peter clung to his father when he finally got his arms around him, smearing blood all over his fathers neck and the back of his grey AC/DC shirt.

"Dad," Peter gasped quietly. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, he wanted the world to feel the pain he felt right now. But he couldn't. He was exhausted, he was all cried out, his body and mind were simply done. "Dad, it's my fault... it's all my fault..."

"Shhhhhh, Petey, don't talk like that," Tony pulled back and reached up to the towel rack to pull one down and tightly wrap Peter's arm.

"God, there's so much blood... _STEVE! STEVE GET IN HERE NOW! _JARVIS, alert Bruce of the situation... Peter, don't move, just hang on, okay? I'm gonna get you help, okay?"

Peter didn't remember much from the rest of that night. He figured Pops must have showed up eventually as his panicked face appeared in front of his. He remembered Uncle Bruce showing up with bandages and gauze, murmuring to him as he cleaned up his arm. He remembered Pop's and Uncle Bruce sitting next to his bed while his father got cleaned up, and he remembered three other Avenger-like figures hovering in his doorway.

And he thought he remembered waking up to some noises that night while he was sleeping. It had sounded like Dad crying on Pop's shoulder, but honestly at that point, if it was what he heard, he really couldn't bring himself to care.


End file.
